Haunted by the Past
by ayearlater
Summary: Even though Juliette is saving the world with the help of her best friends and love of her life, she is still haunted by her past. Will she be able to move on and finally be happy?
1. Chapter 1

"Morning, love."

I squinted at the light whilst slowly moving further back to consciousness with every kiss Aarons planted along my neck. Suddenly, the instinct of being constantly cautious blew away everything sane in my mind and I flinched noticeably. A dark reality gripped my mind and the light shining in through the window, the softness of the covers, the highlights in his hair, the welcoming smell of coffee that filled the room was all gone. All I saw was darkness, death and destruction. I couldn't see what was reality, what was dreams and where this hell I had abruptly been transported to was. Aaron didn't stop, though, he didn't even react to my hands pushing him away in reflex, he just held me tighter. Just a moment later I could see it all again, I could drink in my surroundings and feel my muscles relax.

I sighed a deep breath and groaned. I was so tired of not being normal. I didn't think those memories and reflexes was ever going away. But I would fight against them for as long as I lived. I tried to ask for forgiveness with my eyes but Aaron didn't let me. His kisses were making their way towards my cheek. I smiled a little but then felt the sleepiness flourish in my brain.

"Morning," I mumbled but shut my eyes again and buried my head in one of the superfluously fluffy pillows.

"No, Juliette, you actually have to wake up," Aaron mused as he tugged on the covers.

"What time is it?"

"It's eight-hundred," he said carefully.

I groaned and pulled the sheets over my head.

" _No_ _way_. I'm going back to sleep."

"Juliette. It's kind of a big day today, remember?" He watched me closely, vary of the reaction.

"What?" I couldn't remember what he was talking about. He stroked my hair and pulled me a little bit closer.

"We're going back to asylum today, love."

I sat lifelessly on the black-leathered sofa in Aaron's office while he was in the shower. I was too tired and nervous to get ready. Instead, I waited until he finished showering and could pick out some clothes for me. Also, he had a better fashion sense than I would ever require. I sometimes thought that I was incredibly spoiled. Aaron's the kindest man, he worried and cared so much about me, I wondered if I'd ever be able to make it up to him.

As I listened to the sound of water splashing down on the tiles, I remembered the feeling I had when I woke up that morning, I felt so terrified, so much like the old me. But truthfully I was doing much better. I was living the dream, to be honest. I spent my days with the love of my life and my best friend as we tried to make the world a better place. I was happy. But still…

I had been waking up at night after horrifying nightmares. Or, well, Aaron woke me up after being terrified of my screams. I couldn't help it. However content or joyous I might have been, I still dwelled in the ghosts of the past. I couldn't forget hurting innocent people, I couldn't get over the devastation I had caused. I also could not forget one specific year of my life. The year I spent in isolation. In other words, the year I spent at the asylum.


	2. Chapter 2

Aaron came out of the bathroom all wet and beautiful. I tried to smile at him but I could see that he wasn't convinced. He took my hand and dragged me up from the sofa.

"I love you," he said and hugged me reassuringly.

"I love you too," I whispered. The words still sounded so foreign to me.

We joined hands and walked to the gigantic walk-in closet I still hadn't gotten used to. I sat down on an exquisite stool while he made his way around the room. He returned with a bundle of clothes I put on while he also got dressed.

Somehow this felt like day Aaron went to see his mother, only the other way around. We knew that the other one was going to suffer miserably but there's nothing we can do. We took the elevator to the top of the building. There's a helicopter waiting for us. The view was breathtaking but my mind was too clouded with thoughts to even notice it.

The trip took about an hour, usually I'd fall asleep resting on Aaron's shoulder, comforted by his warmth, but this time I spent the hour hunched up in my seat, dreadfully inspecting the gray sky and counting the seconds as they went by. When the pilot signals for landing I look out of the window and inspect the place. I had expected literal darkness to surround the building, I had expected flames, screams, starved bodies and devastation. But it was just a building, it didn't reveal any of the secrets hidden inside. If not for my memories this would have been an ordinary building. A person could blindly walk past this and not look back. It killed me that it would be so easy for the public to forget something so horrid.

As I walked through the hallowed halls, all the dark memories from that time resurfaced. I noticed everything that had changed since then. I had stopped counting. I couldn't remember exactly when, but I had stopped trying to cope with my existence through numbers. I had replaced it with actions and love.

When we reached my room cell, I saw myself for a moment. Juliette I was sitting in the corner of the cell, hair wet with a worn blanket wrapped around my shoulders. She I was embracing her legs, which was pulled up against my chest, shielding me from the horrors of the world outside. Her my much visible cheekbones and dark circles beneath my eyes, showed that the world inside my head wasn't that beautiful either. I gasped out loud before I understood that she wasn't real. Just a fragment of imagination. I couldn't see myself as this person. The girl who spent almost a year in this room was not me, she lived in a different universe where strength and power was considered something bad.

I felt a hand on my lower back. Aaron. I wondered what he had seen when he freed me from this cell. I wondered still how he could've seen that power and anger in me, when I, myself, wasn't aware it existed. I tried to express my gratitude with a look, since I was unable to speak.

We entered the cell. It was small. Smaller than I imagined, at the same time as it was bigger than I once had thought it was. To stand there, in the middle of the room, where I'd been trapped for 266 days, knowing that if I had just believed in myself, I could have escaped, was suffocating.

I didn't cry. But I came very close. I sat down on the bed. It was even harder and stiffer than I remembered. How did I survive?

I looked through the window. I watched the clouds and dreamed of the sun that was still so difficult to spot even on the best days. I watched the empty land but didn't worry about the lack of trees and flower, because I knew that what I was looking at was a lie. I didn't even look for birds, not even the white one with gold accents. Because I had found my bird, I had found that freedom. But I had also learnt to live without it, I had become independent and didn't have to rely on others to show me the world. I was the one in control now.


	3. Chapter 3

We walked through the corridors and reached the room where I had first met Aaron. Of course, then I had had my face against the ground and a gun at my back. I had hated him so much the first time I met him, I had despised every hair on his body and been furious at every hint of a smile he showed. Now that he was holding my limp hand and being the one I had chosen to spend my life with, I had a hard time remembering the feelings and the image I used to have for him.

Even though I couldn't hear the screams and noises that I did when I used to live here, I could still remember the ice-cold shrieks that were only to be heard in the darkness of night. The asylum had been evacuated many months before our visit. I had seen to it. The patients prisoners that had actual mental problems had been sent to real institutions that were helping them, and the prisoners who were like me - special - had been sent to training facilities much like Omega Point. Castle had helped creating a perfect home for them and had provided as much support as needed.

I tugged at Aarons hand when I felt like it all got too much, I had to get out of the rooms surrounded by walls that had seen so much pain och torture. We got to a court yard I had not seen before. Perhaps it was here the guards had welcomed new prisoners, or maybe it was here they were just enjoying their breaks. I wouldn't know. I had wondered how they were able to treat us like animals, like less than that. I had spent many days wondering if they knew what was really going on, or if they had been taught that we were all really insane? All documentation had been destroyed by the Reestablishment when they had understood that their control was slipping.

We sat down on a bench that had a view of the asylum. It was a big building with grey stone walls and small windows. It looked terrifying, haunted, but also beautiful. There weren't many old buildings left after the Reestablishment had tried to renew society, so as horrifying a history this building has it was bound to stay.

We had walked through the prison in silence, speaking through eyes and touch, so when Aaron finally spoke I tried to mask my flinching.

"So I didn't want to tell you this, I've been dreading it actually..." he gently touched his neck with his fingertips, a ghost of a habit he had tried to fight.

"What are you talking about?"

"I knew that this was going to be an emotional day anyway, and I thought that it might be best to have it all over with?" He phrased it as a question and I didn't like his sheepish tone. It was rare to see Aaron this embarrassed and unsure, but I couldn't enjoy it since my head was filled with my heartbeat and I got feel my pulse accelerating.

"You know that I had all this information collected about you before we took you to the compounds..."

"Yes?"

"Well..." he took one last pause. "I found your parents."


	4. Chapter 4

I sat speechless staring at him. I was perfectly convinced that I had just imagined the words that left his mouth until he spoke again.

"Juliette? Are you OK? Did you hear what I said?" His eyes were wide and his forehead wrinkled.

I could not speak.

My parents left me to die. My parents left me to die. My parents left me to die.

My parents didn't bother to say goodbye when I was taken away from them. They didn't want me. I had a hard time remembering my mother's face. I couldn't remember my father's voice.

"Why?" I didn't remember deciding to speak when the word pushed itself out of my throat.

"Because you're still waking up with nightmares, love. Because you have so much unresolved in your past. Because you have helped me so much and I wanted to return the favour."

I wanted to believe his words, I wanted to thank him and tell him that I love him.

"I never asked you to do that. I've never said I wanted to see them again."  
"That's true. But you need to move on, and you're strong enough now."

"I don't need you to make decisions for me."

"I know. Don't you think I know that? You don't need me, but I wanted to do this for you."  
I knew that I was attacking him for no reason. I knew that the real reason I was feeling defensive was that I was terrified. He knew that too.

"What if they don't want to see me?" My voice cracks.

"Then they're stupid and don't deserve to have you in their lives."

I thought it over. I didn't want to see them. But if I had Aaron with me it might be OK.

"Do they live close?"

"An hour away."

It wasn't enough time. I wouldn't be able to prepare in such a short amount of time. Did they even want to meet me?

"Have you... have you spoken to them?" I was afraid of his answer.

"I spoke to them… briefly," he whispered

"How could you keep something like this from me? How long have you known?"

"Well, I known that ever since I found out about you. I'm sorry, we've just had more important stuff to deal with until now."  
"Yeah, like defeating the Reestablishment isn't enough," I managed to roll my eyes even though it felt like the reality I'd built my worldview upon was falling apart.

"Honey, I'm sorry. OK? I'm sorry. We don't have to-"

"Of course we don't have to. I know that. But what kind of daughter would I be if I didn't seize the possibility? I don't even know if I have the right to call myself a daughter when my parents never even wanted to be associated with me." I was rambling, I was trying to make sense of it all, I was trying to explain my feelings enough for him know what words to say to console me. I was failing.

He was quiet for a moment, giving me enough space to calm my breathing and listen to his next words. "You don't have any obligation to see them. This is for you, not for them."

We sat in silence.

"So, what do you want to do?"

I looked him in the eyes, they were green, concerned and unblinking. I wanted to get this over with. I wanted to sleep for twenty-four hours straight. I wanted to kiss his beautiful lips and forget about everything else. But not now. In that moment I knew I had to face reality, defeat the past. Maybe for the last time.

"Let's go," I said and took his hand. Our fingers intertwined as we began walking towards the helicopter.


	5. Chapter 5

My gaze didn't wander. I didn't dream myself away to another universe. I didn't write short poems in my mind. I didn't dare to look at Aarons hand. I didn't know if it was red or white - or blue. I only knew how incredibly hard I was squeezing it. I put all my power into relaxing my hand but I couldn't do it. As soon as my muscles stopped bracing themselves, the faces of my parents haunted me. I saw my mother cry and my father embracing her as the guards pulled me away. The last time I had seen them. My mother hadn't been crying because she was losing me, but because to her I had always been lost.

Aaron was quiet beside me. He was trying to support me. In this instance, his support took shape in the silence he was contributing with even though I was squeezing the life out of his hand. I appreciated it. But I didn't know if it was enough. I didn't know how to prepare or what to expect.

We arrived to a gray residential area in stone, all the houses looked the same and I thought that it was such a perfect place for my parents - or for how I remembered them. Blank walls that only reflected the world around them. Weak infront of pressure.

We landed at a bare stretch of land and walked to the buildings. There were no people in the streets, there were no grocery stores or squares, only apartments. I wondered how they got food, where they worked, how they survived. Aaron guided me gently but consciously. Knowing him, he had studied building plans and researched so much that nothing but the intensely eerie air was news to him.

I stood paralysed outside the door. There were no pots and plants, no welcoming mat, no windows, just a black anonymous door. Aaron asked me something but I couldn't hear what. I nodded anyway and he proceeded to knock on the door. Two simple knocks. I didn't know what were hiding behind the door. I didn't know how it'd change my life, I was certain that it _would_ just not about _how_. I stared at the door so intensely for so long that at last I only saw spirals of colours instead of the actual house before me. I was launched back to reality when the door slowly opened.

A middle aged woman was standing before us. Her hair had prematurely greyed and was pulled back into a bun. Her eyes were thin and her whole body was carried in a tired, careless way. She looked nothing like my mother. But these two different women still shared the same eye colour, the unnaturally long neck, and the very narrow hips. She viewed us suspiciously, ready to close the door as soon as she spotted a threat. But after inspecting us for a moment her eyes suddenly locked on mine and her mouth fell open.

"Juliette?" Her weak whisper was a question. She wasn't sure.

She didn't recognise her own daughter.

She looked at me in astonishment, she couldn't believe her own eyes. I didn't know what to say. I didn't know what to do. Did she still hate me? Had she missed me for even a second during the years I had been gone? Where was my father? How were they alive? Had they been treated well? Did I care if they were?

Why did they leave me?


	6. Chapter 6

My mother was still staring at me, not acknowledging Aaron with so much as a glance. "You've changed," she said. She didn't sound disappointed or awed by the fact, she was simply neutral. The saddest part of all was that this pleased me, because it wasn't negative. And she hadn't forced me to leave just yet. All the same, I didn't know what to answer. The silence was shifting from natural to awkward. There's a big possibility that we would had stood like that for hours if it wouldn't have been for Aaron.

"God day, Mrs Ferrars. It's a pleasure to meet you at last. My name is Aaron Warner," he held forward his right hand. It was visible that my mother had flinched at the name dropping, but it still took her a little too long to reach out and shake his hand. And even then it was a weak and trembling handshake.

Almost not visible to the human eye he positioned his shoulders in an insinuating way and let out an air of slight impatience. My mother was not an unintelligent woman, she picked up on the vibe but thought about it for a moment before acting.

"It is nice to meet you too. Would you like to come in?"

Aaron waited for a moment to see if I'd jump in, but then answered the question himself. "We'd love to."

The apartment consisted of one large room that served as both living room, dining room, and kitchen, and a small bathroom and bedroom that were not much larger than closets. It was sparsely furnished without any sign of artwork, flowers or decorations of any sort. I couldn't imagine living here, without any personal affections - especially not after getting used to living in Aaron's luxurious quarters. The sound of a radio was the only thing to be heard as we entered. There wasn't anyone else here. No sign of my father.

"Please, sit down," she gestured to a sofa that once had been white but now only looked foul. Aaron placed a hand on the small of my back and led me to it. "Do you want anything?" she asked as we sat down.

"We're absolutely fine, thank you," Aaron said and smiled. I recognised his attempt at charming her, but she didn't bite. I don't think she noticed. She nodded and sat down in a small, uncomfortable armchair opposite to us. We went silent. I didn't know what to say, I had never been good at small talk. I looked to Aaron who smiled apologetically, he didn't know what say either. I looked to my mother and she was looking at everything other than us. She didn't want me here. I decided that it couldn't get any worse than this.

"How is it to live here?" I asked. An empty sentence, spoken with my croaky, unused voice, that made my mother snap her neck and stare at me. She waited a few seconds before answering.

"It is fine. We didn't have much choice as… the times changed. Some of our old neighbours are living here too, so we're not alone," she shrugged slightly and I noticed for the first time the old her. Not the stiff version she was presenting of herself, but the one she showed when she invited someone over for tea or when chatting with the cashier in the local supermarket. Had I missed her? I asked myself. I knew that I had missed having parents, I knew that I had felt an excruciating longing for anyone who loved me, but had I really missed _them_?

"Where's dad?" I asked cautiously. I had noticed that she always spoke in plural, he must still be here.

"Oh, he's just out working. He and the other men has to provide for the neighbourhood - nobody else does."

I didn't know what to say. I couldn't understand their world or lifestyle. This world of hers was so different for the one she had when I was sent away left. "Oh, good." At least he was alive.

The seconds went by. We didn't say anything. What bothered me the most was that she hadn't asked me a single question. It had been years since I saw her last. Wasn't she the least interested in what I had been doing? Where I had been? How I had survived when she left me on my own as a kid? I felt heat rushing inside my veins. How could she not _care_ in the slightest? I grabbed Aaron's hand to calm me down, and he immediately began reassuringly stroking it, sensing my mood.

That's when it happened. My mother let out a scream. She rushed up and tried pulling Aaron away from me. "DON'T LET HER TOUCH YOU." She jerked him away before he even noticed what was happening. Her eyes were wide, a vein had become visible on her forehead and her left eye was twitching. My insides when ice cold as I realised that my mother had lost her sanity. "She will hurt you like she hurt everything else. Get out while you can." And then I realised why she still passionately hated my guts.


	7. Chapter 7

"Mom," I spoke her name, calmly. We were still standing, frozen, in the position we ended up in. Aaron stood with his arms around me, whilst my mother stood with her arms cautiously raised and her eyes shooting daggers. I had no idea what to do. What to say. How to act.

"It's OK. I won't hurt him."

"I don't know what you've done to him to make him stay with you, and follow you here, but whatever it is, it's evil. You are evil," she spoke quickly and with total conviction. I barely understood the meaning of her words but could just by her tone realise that she didn't even consider me a human being anymore. "You cause pain, that is what you _do_. What did you think would come out of you coming here? You want revenge? Kill me then. _Kill me._ " Paralysis struck me as she began screaming. I couldn't see anything human in her, she wasn't the mother I remembered. She was a broken creature, puking insults and aggravated accusations. I should not have come here.

"Please, Mrs Ferrars," the sound of Aaron's voice reminded me that this wasn't real. Reality was far, far away in our ordinary life. This was some fantasy world we happened to end up in. This was a nightmare. I wanted needed to

 _wake up_.

"I know what has happened between you – and it is nearly impossible to understand – but Juliette isn't dangerous. She is not what you think she is–"  
"She is a MURDERER," I stood completely still. Nothing could harm me. I was closed to the outside world. Inside, the fire had died down. The flames weren't licking my veins anymore, they were frozen. Numb. I could barely hear what they talked about.

"When she was little, she had no control over her talent – her power. Now she has. You can't define her for what she had to go through." A courageous attempt, foolish and completely unnecessary since we should just have left – but still brave.

"She killed a little boy. She killed him. Watched him scream in pain, and let herself be the cause of his dying breath? You call that talent? You encourage that? Then you too are a monster." I couldn't feel anything. In my head, I was humming a melody. It might have been a nursery song I remembered from my childhood.

 _Ring-a-ring o' roses,_

 _A pocket full of posies,_

"She couldn't help it! If you would have just believed in her, then maybe she wouldn't have shut down and hated herself for years," he raised his voice.

 _A-tishoo! A-tishoo!_

 _We all fall down._

"You blame me for the monster inside of her?" Her hollow laugh echoed in the silence of the room.

 _Cows in the meadows,_

 _Eating buttercups,_

"I blame you. For not taking care of your daughter. For abandoning her then, and for acting like a madman when she, after all these years, comes to visit you to tell you that she's changed. She came here to reconnect with her parents that she still thinks about daily–"

"You didn't know her back then, you can't say anything about this. You don't know what it's like to see all the other mother kiss and hug their children goodbye in the mornings. To see them holding hands," she spat out the words, her chest was heaving. "To never touch your own child after birthing her. You cannot judge me for my actions without knowing what it was like. You can't blame me for seeing her as an constant reminder of what I can't have. You can not blame me for being 'a bad mother' with a child like that."

Aaron went silent. My mother went silent. I spoke up.

"We should go." And then we left.

 _A-tishoo! A-tishoo!_

 _We all jump up._


	8. Chapter 8

I went out the door, with Aaron close behind me. I continued out, out from the depressing neighborhood, out of the place where all my nightmares seemed to be alive, out. I heard his steps behind me, I could hear his thoughts calling out to me. All I saw before me was my mother. My mother. A woman who was better off thinking I was dead. Better off thinking I had gotten what I deserved.

We were in the middle of nowhere. The horisont was far, far away. And the sun was hidden behind clouds. And my mind was numbed by all the distractions that automatically kicked in when it all got too much – a defense mechanism I'd developed a long time ago. I played the song in my head, over and over and over and over again.

A hand on the small of my back. Warmth. An embrace. Touch. Human skin. Just a hug from a boy – no – so much more than that. A calm spread through me. Suddenly, I didn't need any defense, didn't need any walls or protection. I had him.

I breathed in the scent of his newly-washed hair and felt rather than heard his whispering against my neck. "It's going to be OK. This isn't you fault." Anyone could have told me those words, they were probably taken directly from a handbook about dealing with anxious people. But I didn't care. Because coming from him, they suddenly didn't fall flat, but carried meaning. Carried love. Carried me up, up, up and away.

"Do you want to go?"  
Did I?  
Did I want to give up?

How much torture can a person take? How much hurt can a body endure? I pictured the already graying man I remembered. I didn't remember him as the same kind of monster as my mother. Not that he had ever done anything to prevent what happened to me, but he was always on the sidelines. Watching. Doing what my mother told him to. Perhaps that could be easier to forgive? To let go off? Or was he as guilty, even though he lacked the courage to act upon his opinions?

Or, would it be the same? Would I flee? Would I experience another string of events causing even more nightmares. Even more sleepless nights. Even more cold sweat and clinging to Aaron to get through the darkness of the small hours?

I didn't know. Did I have to decide? I looked to Aaron. He looked to me.  
"No," I didn't know I meant it before I said it.  
"Your father?" he asked. Understanding me. Knowing me better than myself. I nodded. "I know where to go."  
He hesitated, giving me a long look that conveyed so much more. Stroking a strand of hair that had blown onto my face. Brushing off an eyelash that had stuck beneath my eye. Cupping my cheek with his hand. "Are you sure?"  
No. "Yes."


End file.
